We both made the callI've grown accustomed to seeing Caleb in what I can only call 'smart casual'- clothing that is not bespoke suits, steamed and pressed within an inch of their lives, delivered every third day by a service because I think a wrinkle might ruin his evil intentions or something. No, smart casual is Caleb in lighter shirts and jeans. Sometimes even in a hoodie and cargo shorts. It's less of a surprise but some outfits are still surprises, like today's black watch plaid pajama bottoms and a tight grey waffleknit t-shirt.
But it was only my fault
Such a beautiful view with a long way to fall
I was afraid to leave the safety of above
But if it doesn't it's not love
So tight it made one wrinkled line straight across his chest, binding against his biceps and his chest..and hey, what do I know? 32 degrees in the shade and the sun hasn't even come out yet and I need to beat back the fuzzy little cougar inside my head because she's becoming a problem.
So is that shirt. And if I talk about his clothes I can ignore everything else, right?
Like his hair, with the waves sort of messed up in front and the tousled ends and no comb, no forcing it to conform today, more Cole than Caleb, more sweet than sinister, somewhat defeated and open and welcoming and today I took the embrace, even though I knew it wouldn't do either of us any good at all.
The moment his arms closed around me I felt like a deceitful teenager and so I ducked out of his arms, asking instead for the report he promised.
He turned away and said Follow me, walking barefoot into his office, where he dragged a second chair around his desk and placed it next to his. He sat down and indicated I was to sit beside him. I took the chair and waited.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out two files. One was grey and had hospital addresses stamped on the front. The second one was pink, labelled BRIDGET. He opened the hospital one first and then he stopped. I'm sorry for making you wait. I needed time to rest, the headaches have been so bad. He went on to explain the high blood pressure of late, the stress and inability to manage his anxiety.
I'm foundering. The devil doesn't have anxiety, does he? How is that even possible? What stress again? I'm not understanding and he turns so that our knees are touching and I realize he hasn't even shaved today and wow. Beautiful. I see cougaring is some sort of defense mechanism. I wish I could just take a break already.
He continues to explain while I stare at the places where his shoulders turn into his neck and since when was his neck this wide anyway and he's not unaware that I am not exactly paying attention and so after a few minutes of me not replying to direct requests that I confirm what he's telling me he closes the folder and sits back in his chair while I reconcile his visual perfection with his internal imperfections. How can someone that looks like this be so ruined?
Oh, right. That's what they used to say about me, before the black circles under my eyes and the black hole that is my heart swallowed the pretty alive.
I'm not going to die any time soon, Bridget.
Cole did. BOOM. He was dead. Just like that.
Cole was taking things he had no business taking, Bridget. That's what killed him. It forced his heart into overdrive and his heart then gave out. Nothing more.
He took pills for his ADHD. It kept him calm enough to work.
Caleb frowned. The quantities of speed he took moved far beyond his diagnosis, doll.
I know this and I don't want to listen but he keeps talking about how he was forced to choose between watching his brother fail miserably and at least seeing him go out on top.
You could have kept him from that life and instead you made it worse?
My point is that I don't take drugs presently and I'll be swearing off alcohol as well now. My health is paramount. Cole refused to listen to reason and refused to stay clean and he paid the ultimate price.
He wasn't a junkie.
Caleb gets down beside my chair. Bridget, I loved him too, don't you doubt that for a second. But when I realized he wasn't going to change I had to shift my energies to you and the kids. This is what the second folder contains.
What?
Read it.
Can I take it home?
I'd prefer it to stay here. You can come and read it over as many times as you need to.
My hands are shaking when I pick it up. I was so sheltered. They continue to shelter me, Caleb and Batman do. Batman was as aware of this as Caleb and yet he's never said more than a sentence or two to me about Cole though he knows almost as much about him. More proof that I made the right decision sticking close to Caleb while cutting Batman loose.
I read the first few paragraphs and my eyes cross and I put the page down.
I can't do this right now. You want to cash in on his flaws.
Bridget, he takes my hands and places them against his heart. I manage my health. I am doing everything in my power to make sure I'm still around when Henry has children. Hopefully longer than that even. But I accept the fact that I have weaknesses and I need...help.
I can't save you, Caleb.
His eyes well up but harden. Yes, you can.
I need to go now.
Bridget, please. Just stay. Stop dancing around this and take what's yours. I watch you struggle. That's what's killing me.
I'll see you later.
It's ironclad. You'd be a fool to refuse.
I've been a fool all along.